Making Do
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Sebastian and Kurt are roommates at NYU. Sebastian usually spends his weekends out partying, but when he's forced to stay in one Friday night, he discovers what his roommate does when Sebastian isn't there. Warning for mention of Finn. Kurt H. Sebastian S.


**A/N:** _Written for the Kurtbastian Hiatus Project prompt 'College AU', but I didn't like it the first time around. Warning for angst, sexual content, and mention of Finn._

It's a rare Friday night that Sebastian Smythe doesn't have plans or a date, and tonight happens to be one of those. It's not because there isn't a plethora of available ass for him to desecrate or a frat hosting a weekend kegger. It's a matter of personal preference. He has to be up at five in the morning for an eight a.m. flight, and he has no intention of waking up in some rando guy's apartment across town with absolutely no idea where he is or how the hell he's going to make it back to his dorm in time to get his shit and catch his plane. It's a sad fact of life indeed that with age comes maturity and a sense of responsibility.

He'll just have to make up for it the following weekend.

It's quiet in his room – quieter than he normally likes, but that's partly because his incessantly showtune humming diva of a roommate isn't there. Sebastian didn't realize that the stuck-up ice princess he got saddled with - Kurt Hummel - was actually a party man. That kind of pisses him off. If he'd known, he would have been bringing his dates back here instead of camping out on somebody else's uncomfortable bed for the night. Call him a snob, but he doesn't do well without his own memory foam mattress.

In the silence of their room, it takes Sebastian a while to fall asleep, but sleep doesn't last too long. Random noises and smells start invading his conscious, coloring his dreams in bizarre ways. One minute, he's having a three-way with Stephen Amell and Chris Hemsworth, and the next thing he knows he's naked, wearing an apron around his waist, making popcorn balls with his nana in her kitchen back in Marseille. The smell of popcorn seems to settle in the air around him. He can hear the sound of it popping. He whimpers, trying desperately to get back to his original dream. Even in the brightly lit chateau kitchen, he can hear a man breathing heavily, gasping on occasion, the sound bringing to life his sleepy hard-on jerking against the waistband on his lounge pants.

"Chris…baby…" Sebastian mumbles, "come back to bed. Sebastian's lonely."

A far off giggle gives him pause. He doesn't remember Chris's voice being quite that high-pitched before. He twists and rolls on his bed, and the laughter cuts off immediately. Sebastian manages to weakly drift back to sleep and finds his way to Chris and Stephen, except now they're _all_ in his nana's kitchen making popcorn balls, Stephen covering his in a layer of chocolate ganache while a half-naked Chris talks to his nana about the politics of trade export in Belgium, and still, somewhere off in the distance, he can hear another man gasping.

Sebastian follows the sound, whining as he realizes that it's leading him out of his dream and bringing him to consciousness, though he's slightly glad, too. There seemed to be no way of rectifying it and his wet dream wood swiftly withers away.

"Kurt…" Sebastian moans, blinking his eyes, catching a faint glimpse of blue light from Kurt's laptop before he closes the lid. "Kurt, are you jerking off?"

"What?" a breathy but mortified voice answers from the shadows while Sebastian slowly rises from his bed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well," Sebastian says, pausing to yawn, still blinking his eyes to make sense of the room in the absence of light, "I saw your computer on, and you've been doing all these breathy…" Sebastian takes a moment to mimic the sounds of Kurt's hushed gasps that he could hear inside his dreams. His eye sight hasn't fully returned, but he can see Kurt put a hand to his neck and turn away, concealing the blush rising to his cheeks. "So, what's the deal?"

"There is no deal," Kurt answers, his voice strained. "I don't have to explain myself to you. I was just about to turn in anyway."

"Oh, don't be like that." Sebastian raises his arms over his head and yawns again, sleep completely erased from his bleary mind as he continues to rib his uptight roommate. "You're watching porn and spanking the monkey, just admit it."

"I certainly am not," Kurt spits back, head turned, still unable to look Sebastian in the eyes.

"You certainly am are," Sebastian retorts, his grin growing, convinced he's hit the right button by the way Kurt's face becomes a splotchy flush of scarlets so vibrant he can see them by the low glow of the light streaming in from outside.

"No, I'm…" Kurt stammers, but Sebastian doesn't let him finish.

"Don't be ashamed," Sebastian needles. "We all do it. In fact, you should have told me you were in the mood. Maybe I could have…you know…lent a hand…"

Sebastian snickers, waiting for a reaction, but Kurt doesn't respond, doesn't move, sitting still and quiet in the hopes that his roommate will back off and return to bed. This is how a lot of their conversations went – with Sebastian making rude remarks and Kurt endeavoring to ignore him. Kurt doesn't necessarily dislike his roommate, but rooming with him is kind of a nightmare. They have barely spoken fifteen words to each other in the three months they've attended NYU, and most of Sebastian's words were either a lewd come-on or a joke at Kurt's expense. When Kurt came to NYU, he had hoped for the full college experience, hence why he opted to stay in the dorms instead of bunking with friends in their loft in Brooklyn (an offer that he'd been repeatedly told is always open).

The funny thing is that for all of his strutting and cock-of-the-walk swagger, Kurt knows there's another side to Sebastian, one that he keeps carefully concealed, one that only surfaces when he talks to his parents and grandmother on the phone, in fluent French, blissfully ignorant to the fact that Kurt understands every word he's saying.

Including the fact that Sebastian told his grandmother on one occasion that his roommate seemed interesting, and on another that he had beautiful eyes.

Kurt has to believe that's the truth. If Sebastian doesn't know that Kurt can understand him, why would he lie?

But it's hard to think of Sebastian as that sweet-spoken young man now when he gazes at Kurt like he can see through his clothes, or like he's waiting for Kurt to get so embarrassed by his aggressive flirting that he bursts into flames.

"Come on, Hummel," Sebastian teases, reaching for Kurt's computer, "whatcha watching?"

"That's none of your business, Smythe!" Kurt says defensively, grabbing for the laptop but knocking something else to the floor, something that lands with a clatter off the end of the bed where Sebastian can get to it before Kurt can even stand.

"A-ha," Sebastian says, rushing to make good on his advantage. He scrambles to the floor and comes back up with a handful of DVD jewel cases. "Ooo, movies, and they're part of your _personal_ collection."

"Sebastian…" Kurt squeaks but Sebastian scurries back to his bed and turns on his bedside lamp.

Sebastian makes a performance of holding the cases up to the light, looking past them once at Kurt to savor his expression, then back to the cases in his hands. The pride on his smug face morphs into comical confusion as he reads the titles on the spines.

"Predator…Predator 2…Predators…The Saw Collection…" Sebastian stalks back to Kurt's bed, raising the hand clutching the cases and shakes them in Kurt's face, looking almost offended.

"These aren't pornos," Sebastian accuses.

"Well, I told you _that_," Kurt snaps. He reaches for the cases, grabs them out of Sebastian's hands, and stuffs them possessively under his pillow.

Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for Kurt to explain, but Kurt continues to stare off into space, passively dismissive of Sebastian's presence.

"Why all the secrecy for horror movies?" Sebastian asks, sounding less offended, shooting for interested, but still more intrusive than Kurt cares for.

"Because it's my private business," Kurt says, thrumming his fingers nervously on his comforter, his eyes glued to them as they move. "This is what I do on Friday nights while you're out…" Kurt makes a meaningless gesture with his hand, "doing whatever you do, so it doesn't concern you. The movies aren't even mine." Kurt makes a strangled noise at the end of his sentence, as if he hadn't intended on letting that information slip.

"Whose movies are they?" Sebastian asks, dropping his crossed arms to his sides, his voice softening when he sees Kurt's face twist.

Kurt sighs, opening the lid to his laptop and running a finger over his sensor pad, the screen popping back to life with a scene of a gigantic alien predator pulling out a guy's spinal cord. Even Sebastian, not at all a stranger to monster films, had to flinch.

"I watch them because…" Kurt's sentence drops off as his chews on his thoughts.

"Yeah?" Sebastian presses, ready to unearth some secret about how, at the age of six, Kurt fancied himself a budding Steven Spielberg, or that he had some kinky sexual thing for men in latex alien costumes, but by the way Kurt drops his eyes, the way his expression seems solemn more than shamed tells Sebastian that he's probably way off the mark on this one, and in a way, he wishes he can take it all back, throw up his hands in apology and surrender, and return to his threesome. He's thinking of a way to do that when Kurt finally answers.

"My…my step-brother, Finn…he loved monster movies," Kurt admits, staring at the image on the screen. "I hated them so I rarely went to see them when he invited me, didn't really join him when he had friends over in his room to watch the latest gory flick. So, after he died, I took them from his room and started to watch them…all the ones that I missed."

Sebastian watches Kurt raise his arms to hug himself, probably a subconscious reaction to revisiting this memory. Sebastian has seen his nana do the same thing when she reminisces about meeting his grandfather way back when. This gesture makes Kurt seem smaller, less of the frigid bitch he tries to be, and it does something to Sebastian.

He doesn't want to admit it, but he hates to see Kurt in this much pain.

Sebastian runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"Scoot over," he says. Kurt's head snaps up in surprise, but when he doesn't move, Sebastian pinches his rear until he hops away from Sebastian's attacking fingers. "I said scoot."

"But, what…why?" Kurt asks, slapping Sebastian's hands away when Sebastian sits down but doesn't stop pinching.

"Because, it's been a long time since I've watched a good monster movie," Sebastian says, starting the movie from where Kurt stopped it. "Just don't go jumping in my lap when you get all scared and shit…unless you're offering something else along with it." Sebastian side-eyes Kurt, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Here," Kurt says, reaching over the edge of the bed and picking up his bowl of popcorn, setting it roughly in Sebastian's lap. "Keep that there and I'll make sure to stay on my side." Sebastian tosses a piece of popcorn at Kurt, which Kurt dodges with ease. Kurt quickly grabs a piece and retaliates, aiming it at Sebastian's face. Sebastian deftly turns and snatches the popcorn with his teeth. Kurt has to laugh. Finn would have done the exact same thing – or attempted to, anyway. He probably would have missed by a mile and fallen off the bed. Kurt would do anything to have Finn back with him, sharing the bed with him, gobbling all the popcorn up before Kurt could even have a bite. Kurt looks over at Sebastian as he grabs an obscene handful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth, haphazardly losing kernels here and there, eyes glued to the next scene where another man barely misses a blast to the shoulder from a plasma cannon. Sebastian feels Kurt staring at him and shifts his eyes to stare back.

"Wha'?" Sebastian asks, his mouth full as he mumbles the word.

"Nothing," Kurt scoffs but with no derision implied, turning his attention back to the screen.

Sometimes, Kurt feels lost without his big brother.

But this…this could be nice, too.


End file.
